For nearly two decades, my world revolved around hospital hallways, patient charts, and the relentless beeping of monitors. I spent years at the bedside–administering medications, monitoring vital signs, holding hands in moments of fear, and celebrating signs of recovery. Nursing was more than a job. It was a calling.
But over time, I’ve felt the weight of nursing shift in ways that are hard to ignore. The constant push to do more with less grew heavier, while the process of providing care became stricter and more boxed in. What troubled me most, though, was the growing attitude that “a nurse is a nurse is a nurse”–as if our different specialties, skills, and experience don’t matter. That mindset not only undervalues the depth of our profession but also chips away at the individualized, compassionate care that patients deserve. The joy I once felt began to slip away. Burnout crept in quietly, until it was impossible to ignore. My body was exhausted. My spirit felt thin. I spent my life helping others heal, yet I was running on empty myself.
Some people take a vacation when they’re burned out. Others look for a new position in the same field. I did something different: I planted a seed.
Literally.
Today, I run a small regenerative farm on the Carolina coast, growing superfoods like microgreens, tumeric, and Okinawa sweet potatoes. I raise chickens on living pasture and help others access health through food – -food that nourishes the body and the earth at the same time.
I still care deeply for people- I just do it now through food, education, and the land. And I’m not alone. A growing number of nurses, doctors, and caregivers are trading their scrubs for gardening gloves, farm boots, and “food as medicine” entrepreneurship. We’re finding new ways to heal ourselves – and others – outside the walls of the hospital.
Burnout is real. But so is regrowth. And sometimes, it starts with a single seed.
Interested in learning more? Follow me on Instagram @thesoilnurse.